I'll Be Checking Out, Please

I checked out entirely for the last three days.

A strange and noble experiment.

Had to work Friday, so I went through the motions, but by the time I got home at 8:15 I had checked out. I wasn't really aware of it, though. It was not a conscious decision.

By Saturday, it was.

I didn't exercise Friday, Saturday or today. Just didn't fucking care. I'll crank it all up on Tuesday again.

Today is the pinnacle. Had a wonderful night last night because we lost our fucking power at 9 o'clock and didn't get it back until 2 a.m. So I could not use the CPAP monster. Which means the cats slept in my lap. Both of them.

The CPAP machine scares them as much as it disgusts me. They have not slept with me since I started using the damn thing. I miss them.

Woke up with both of them in my lap. Beautiful. Got up, fed them, brushed my teeth etc, made coffee and sat down with a book. When Carol came down we watched two episodes of Law & Order, and 1 and 1/2 episodes of The Geography of Bliss - a new travel docuseries created by Rainn Wilson. Watch it - it is worth it.

I sat motionless under a blanket (it was 59 degrees when I woke up this morning) in the recliner from 8:30 this morning until 1:30 this afternoon. I never do that. Never.

But remember - I am officially checked out. And it feels pretty good.

And both cats ended up back in my lap for a good chunk of that time, which was absolute bliss.

Cleaned the kittie litter box, ate a little something, came up here. I am about to go downstairs, watch the Red Sox with Carol, then watch any other fucking thing that I feel like watching for the rest of the night. Nestled safely in the recliner, where no one can get at me.

Remember when those tiny birds got smeared in an oil spill, and people cleaned them up with Dawn and released them back to their life?

That is what I am doing to my soul this weekend.